


ardor/arbor

by roosebolton



Category: Original Work
Genre: (literally), Dendrophilia, Forest Sex, Forests, Masturbation, Other, Public Masturbation, Romance, Tree POV, Tree Sex, Trees, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:00:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23807293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roosebolton/pseuds/roosebolton
Summary: A voyeuristic tree develops feelings for a human who keeps visiting the forest with amorous intentions.
Relationships: Original Male Character(s)/Other(s), Original Male Character(s)/Tree
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	ardor/arbor

The first time I saw him, I felt my leaves tremble. He was young, and fair, and wild, and lovely, and he walked into my woods like he was waiting to be caught. He was timid, walking with purpose, but he kept looking behind him, as though someone were following him.

He stopped near a tree, reverently placing both hands on its trunk. He paused for a moment, and then he got closer, pressing his clothed body up against it, and for a second, I gasped when I saw his lips brush against the bark. 

In that one second, I fell in love, and I knew he would be mine.

But not yet. Not yet. All in due time, and time is the one thing I have the most of.

After the brief kiss, he must have heard something - a footstep, a cracking branch, an animal, and, skittish, he ran off in the direction he had come.

 _He will come back,_ I thought to myself. _I know it._

And he did. It was some time later, months, or maybe years. He was a little taller, a little older, his hair a little longer, too. He seemed more confident, though perhaps that had come with age. 

This time, he approached the same tree I had seen him touch and kiss and greeted it as if it were an old friend. And then, he took off his shirt, pressing his naked torso to the trunk of the tree, lightly rubbing his cheek against it, leaning into it, clearly enjoying the experience, considering the next thing he did, which was unzip his pants, pulling out his erection. He turned around to lean his naked back against the tree, unknowingly displaying himself to me, and began to stroke himself furiously, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly agape, until he released his seed onto the ground, white specks littering the ground. His body went a little slack against the tree trunk, and after a minute or two, he tucked his cock back into his pants, and he wrapped his arms around the tree as a goodbye, his lips pressed to the tree longer than the first time, his pink tongue darting out only briefly.

The white dots of his seed caught my sight daily until the rains washed it away.

The landscape of the forest changed a little before I saw the boy - no, the man - again. New saplings had sprouted up, a tree within my view had been hit by lightning, and animals had come and gone.

The next time I saw him, he was already naked from the waist up. It was the height of summer, and the sky was approaching sunset. He first walked up to his favorite tree, greeting it with a kiss, but after that, he noticed a young tree, a year or two old, its twin trunks growing close enough to nearly touch. I held my breath, willing my branches to be still, hoping he would do what I wanted him to do, and then...

He approached the young tree warily, running his hands down its trunks with both hands, seemingly gauging its roughness and elasticity. 

And then, he took off his shorts, stepping out of them and his boxers, leaving his shoes on. He was very obviously excited, his cock hard and glistening at the tip, and he parted the two young trunks just enough to fit his cock between them, gently letting them go before starting to thrust. He let himself moan, then, at the sensation, and it seemed to me like this was a moment that was a long time in the making. The man was clearly attracted to trees, though at first he had been too young and too scared to make a move. 

He thrust longer and harder, the roughness of the young bark pinning his skin in place so that each time he pressed forward, the head of his cock peeked out of his foreskin, and before long, he cried out, his voice echoing into the woods, his seed coming out in great gushes, dripping onto the ground and onto both trunks as he pulled his cock away from between them. He ran a finger over the tip of his cock, and after a pause, he walked over to his favorite tree and left it there, an offering.

The next time, it was much sooner. He had gotten a taste for it, and would keep returning, I knew that deep in my xylem. 

It was a crisp morning, with very little wind, and the sun was shining. When I saw him, he was walking cautiously, and he was already naked, carrying even his shoes with him this time, his feet darkened with dirt. In my view, he gently draped his clothing over a fallen log, setting his shoes on top. He went to his favorite tree, curling his arms around it and pressing a kiss to its trunk, tentatively at first, then with great passion, his tongue slipping out between his lips to probe between the ridges of the tree’s bark, leaving a dark wet spot behind when he pulled away. 

He turned toward me, though he did not look at me, and gasped for air, leaning against his favorite tree, his cock already harder than I had ever seen it, even when he had been rutting between the trunks of the young tree.

And I watched him, and I ached for him, and I willed him to come to me, and finally, finally, _finally_ , after all that time, he noticed me, just as I had always hoped he would.

His eyes bright, he approached me, slowly running his hands down my bark. I felt myself tremble, slightly, as though it were a very windy day and my trunk was swaying in the whipping winds. 

There was a place, low on my trunk, where a branch had once been, in times gone past, long since broken and dead, and in its place was a hole where there had been decay, my insides building up around it, leaving a nearly round cavity behind, the kind sometimes favored by certain kinds of animals. And, as it turns out, lusty young men with a desire for trees.

In the absence of the decay that had once been there, I craved the force of life, and he was there to provide it to me.

He was hesitant, at first, though intrigued. He stuck a finger inside the hole, licking his lips, and ran his fingertip around the edge, presumably feeling the texture and imagining how it would feel around his cock. I knew there were no animals living inside, but he did not, and he may have been testing for that, too. 

It was a strange sensation to me, being touched like that, and if I could have made a sound louder than the rustling of my leaves, I surely would have. 

I didn’t expect him to kneel down at my roots, kissing my hole, running his tongue along its edges just as he had done with his finger. He laid his cheek against my bark, stroking me gently beneath my hole with a sigh, clearly besotted with me, or at least with the feel of me.

He stood after a while, his cock harder than I had ever seen it, putting his arms around my trunk, holding me tightly, before he pulled back to point his cock at my hole. He had to rise slightly onto his tiptoes to fit it properly, but once he did, he pushed all the way inside me, and I could feel the dampness of his hot breath against my bark. He rolled his hips, and I imagined what his cock must look like inside me, much like when he had rubbed himself to a climax between the twin trunks of the thin young tree I had seen him with previously. He kissed me, as he had kissed his favorite tree, with great passion, his hips moving feverishly, almost erratic, before he settled into a rhythm, giving me more little kisses without tongue each time he thrust inside me once he was nearly at his peak.

When he finally came, hot and wet, deep inside my hole, his cock thrust into me to the hilt, the feeling was indescribable. I felt strangely fulfilled, as though I had been waiting my entire life for this one moment. He rested there for a while, his cock still inside me, his arms around me, his body pressed tight to my trunk.

I wanted to hold him so badly, but I could not move my branches close enough.

He pulled out of me, lowering his heels, and I felt a drip of his seed spilling over the edge of my hole. I felt him hesitate, his hands shaking, before he finally stepped back from me, eyes wide, mouth still slightly agape. 

When he let go of my trunk, I felt the loss of him immediately.

He walked backwards to where he had left his clothes, slowly putting them on, his eyes on me the whole time. He left his shoes off, though, and he paused for a minute or two before he left, looking back at me a few times.

It seemed that whatever I had felt, he had felt it too.

Since then, I thought about him constantly, hoping he would come back to me, look at me the way he had, touch me again, press his body against my trunk, his cock inside me.

He didn’t make me wait long, and a few days later he was back. Less hesitant this time, he didn’t even bother with setting his clothes anywhere else but at my roots, and he did not greet the tree that had been his favorite. 

I was his favorite, now, and the idea made me feel lighter than the air that rustled my leaves. I felt his warmth against me like the sun, the soft skin of his body pressed so tight against my bark that I was sure to leave marks when he pulled away. His cock was already hard, too, and he rubbed himself against my trunk for a while, his fingers touching the rim of my hole, before he pushed himself inside me again, and I felt the tension between us as he thrust into me over and over, his moaning louder this time than before. 

I hoped he understood that I wanted him as much as he wanted me, but I had no way to tell him, and I shook my leaves in frustration as much as I could muster. 

With a last shuddering groan, he came inside me, pressing into me so deeply that I could feel his cock at the back of my hole, and the feeling of it woke something in me, a quaking that spread from him into me, through my trunk all the way up to my flowering branches, and once our coupling was finished, I had showered him in thousands of white petals, his sweat causing them to stick to his heat-slick skin.

He was as surprised as I was, and though he gathered up his clothing afterward, he didn’t leave immediately. When he finally turned to go, I felt the same ache inside that I did the first time, and I thought, as loudly as I could, _please don’t go._

I didn’t expect him to react, but he turned sharply toward me with a look of confusion.

“Did you…” he began, then shook his head. He rubbed his face, mumbling to himself. “Must be going crazy. Now I think they’re _talking_ to me.”

 _I_ was _talking to you,_ I thought, _please don’t leave me. Please._

He stared. “How…?”

_I don’t know, either. I have been watching you for a long time, even before you… before we…_

For the first time, he looked embarrassed. 

_The whole time, I was hoping you would notice me. I wanted to be with you from the moment I saw you. I knew you would come to me. I hoped you would come to me. And here you are._

He stepped closer, gently pressing one hand against my bark. 

“You… wanted me to do… what I did?”

_Yes. Yes. You are like the sun to me. Your warmth gives me life, gives me purpose. Please stay with me._

He leaned against me, and I felt his tears fall against my trunk, his body shaking, his throat choking back a sob.

_Please don’t cry. I love you._

For the first time, I felt free, unencumbered from the place I was planted, and when I once again tried to move my branches to hold him, I realized that I finally _could._ I curled my lowest branches around him, holding him as tight as he held me, his arms wrapped around my trunk.

“Can I… can I really stay here? With you?”

_Please._

He kissed me, gently, longingly, with great love and affection, and I held him in my branches still.

_I love you. Welcome home._


End file.
